Three Words
by CatsbytheGreat
Summary: Three times in Edmund's life, and three words he learned to say.


**Disclaimer: I do not own the characters or anything familiar. They belong to C.S. Lewis. Certain lines are quoted from the books and/or movie, but may have been paraphrased. **

**Author's Note: I'm sorry, sorry, so sorry that I haven't been able to update lately! It's mostly due to a bunch of birthdays, lack of days off, and busy weekends non-school wise. And, to do with school, I've started some Spanish literature that takes a lot of concentration, started some odd math topics, and been trying to 'stay ahead' in history, leaving not-a-lot of time for updates. And my vacations have been all busied up. But updates shall come eventually, and I haven't abandoned anything. This is just a busy time of the year, and it should get better. **

**As for this story, it came about while I was on the bus home, and I had to type it up and edit it and post it because I've been so inactive here. It's just a different look at things that have been looked at a lot. **

**Thanks for having patience, reading, and reviewing! I hope you enjoy it!  
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**Edmund was speechless. This would have been a lot less surprising if Edmund never talked, but Edmund always seemed to be talking. Or, he thought remorsefully, talking _back_. And he certainly always had something to say to his siblings.

But not now.

Not here, after not having seen them for days, after having betrayed them, after having had a long talk with Aslan about things that he hadn't wanted to think about, but needed to think about. After everything should have been resolved, but wasn't.

It was all the harder because his siblings were just as silent.

Aslan broke this silence with the soft words, "There is no need to speak to your brother about what has passed."

Edmund's heart clenched and a rather unexpected question came to his mind: _But what else are we going to talk about?_

He felt an absence at his side and realised that Aslan had left. He was alone now, facing the three people who had every right to never speak to him again.

It only made sense that he should make the first move.

A word came to mind, worked its way into Edmund's throat, and then parted his lips. "Hello." It was quiet, it came late, and it was such an oddly ordinary thing to say. But it made sense, somehow.

The ice was broken. Lucy was all around him, and he embraced her, and then Susan came forward and for a moment it seemed like everything would be fine.

Then he remembered Peter. Peter hadn't said a word, and this was so unlike Peter that it caused Edmund to stare at his brother, unable to move because he wasn't sure whether Peter hated him or not.

And then, when Peter spoke, it was to tell him to rest. Slowly, Edmund moved forward towards the tents.

Then—"And Edmund?" Edmund turned, unsure of what to expect. "Try not to wander off."

Relief flooded through him and he grinned and Peter grinned back, and then he made his way to the tents. His siblings didn't hate him, and he didn't hate them. He knew that.

The thing he wanted to say, but couldn't figure out how, was stuck in his throat. They didn't hate him. They loved him. And he loved them too, but how could they know that if he didn't tell them? He wanted to. But he wasn't sure if he could.

* * *

When he was younger, Edmund sometimes thought about dying a heroes' death, and he often fancied that he would say something great upon dying. His last words would be remembered throughout history, quoted by people near and far, and would have him revered as a great person who died a noble death.

When Edmund was stabbed through the stomach with the jagged edge of Jadis' broken wand, he could not think of a single thing to say.

Instead, a single sigh of breath escaped him, and he saw Peter standing a few feet away looking horrified. He wanted to say something to Peter, but he couldn't think of anything that might bring comfort. After all, he was stabbed, and Peter had seen the whole thing. And, to make matters worse, he now found himself on the ground.

On the ground he was left alone. His vision began to fade and his hearing wasn't fairing much better. He could tell that neither Jadis nor Peter were paying him any mind, now. In fact, he guessed (correctly, he would later learn) that Peter was fighting Jadis.

He wanted to tell Peter that he loved him.

The moment Edmund realised this was the moment that he also realised two other things. He realised that Peter probably wouldn't hear him if he called because he was surely too far away and too distracted with the battle. He also realised that he was struggling just to breath, and that saying anything would surely kill him.

Sluggishly, he thought, _But wouldn't that be a good way to die? _He was going to die anyway, even if he never said anything, because he was sure his breath would run out sooner or later. It was already getting more difficult, and he could hardly see or hear anything. It would not be a waste if he used his last breath on those three words he wanted to say so much. In fact, it would be the best thing he could do with it.

Edmund prepared himself, drew in another breath, and something sweet landed in his mouth and rendered him unconscious.

When he woke up his siblings were all bending over him and he found breathing to be natural. He sat up, slowly, and was shocked that his wound was healed. And suddenly his siblings were smothering him in a hug. Peter was asking him something, and the only answer he could give was a grin, and then Aslan was there as well.

The words he wanted to say were pushed aside in lieu of a long embrace that told them everything. Now they knew, and Edmund couldn't have been happier.

* * *

As a king, Edmund had something to say for everything. He found words very important, and he often used them carefully. He made sure he had a response for every situation, because one was needed in every situation. And it had to be the right one. Ever since he had betrayed his siblings, he had become very careful about the things he did. He tried his best to think before taking action.

Then he found out that his betrayal had more devastating results than he had ever known.

It was six months into the Pevensies' reign. Edmund came upon it in the gardens of Cair Paravel, having overheard a conversation between two of the residents of the castle (he would never say who). He went back into the castle and searched until he found Lucy in the library, reading a book.

She looked up, shocked at the emotions playing across Edmund's face as he tried to keep them in check: anger, horror, despair, self-loathing, shock…

"Edmund, are you all right?" she asked, closing her book and standing, her voice full of concern.

"Lucy," Edmund said, his voice very low and barely under control, "please tell me the truth. I need to know. Did Aslan allow Jadis to kill him on the Stone Table in my place the night before the battle?"

Lucy became pale, and she put her hand on Edmund's arm and tried to think of a way to tell him. She found that she couldn't, she hated seeing her brother so hurt, and so with tears in her eyes she reluctantly nodded.

Edmund stiffened. "Why," he asked, "didn't you tell me?"

Lucy forced herself to speak. "I'm sorry. I should have told you, I know I should have, but Susan didn't want you to know. She wanted to protect you, and so did I. I'm so sorry, Edmund. I…"

Edmund took a deep breath. Then, abruptly, he broke out of Lucy's thin grip on his arm and ran the whole length to his chambers.

It wasn't that he was angry at Lucy or Susan or even Peter for not telling him, because he wasn't. And perhaps he wasn't angry at all. He was shaking, and something was upsetting him. He sat down on his bed to try and sort out his thoughts, even though he knew he wouldn't like to think about this. But it was necessary.

He was upset. He was frustrated because he couldn't figure out why Aslan would do such a thing—but no, he knew, because hadn't Aslan told him? Aslan had said, that day Edmund had been returned to the Narnian camp, "I love you" to him. Edmund couldn't quite believe it then, didn't know why Aslan would love him, but now it was painfully clear. If Aslan had sacrificed himself in Edmund's place, then he really did love Edmund. More than Edmund thought he should.

Edmund couldn't be angry. He knew Aslan wouldn't want him to be upset. He would want Edmund to use this second chance for the greatest good. Edmund was upset, though, because he had caused suffering for the great Lion. Now he didn't know exactly how to feel.

_I love you._

The words came to Edmund as though Aslan was right there. They sounded comforting and almost as though they were answering a question. Edmund sighed. He wanted to know why.

_Because you are. _

Edmund bit his lip. _Is that the only reason_? he thought. _Is that enough?_

This time there was no answer. Edmund would have to figure this out for himself.

There was a knock on the door. It was most likely Lucy, looking to give him comfort. Edmund stood up, not necessarily feeling better, but feeling well enough. Besides, Lucy was a great person to talk to about these sorts of things, and Edmund had learned to appreciate her more than ever at times like these.

Before he reached the door, he felt that there was something left unsaid. At first, he thought he had wanted Aslan to say something more, but then he realised that it was something he himself hadn't said. And so, his hand on the doorknob, Edmund said the thing he felt he needed to say, that he had needed to say for the longest time.

"I love you, Aslan."

Then he opened the door.


End file.
